A Battle of Houses, Waged By Wits
by Lillielle
Summary: Disclaimer: I own nothing. For the Battle of the Houses competition. House: Ravenclaw. Collection of drabbles/one-shots. Luna writes a very interesting letter home/Mandy struggles with a riddle/Bellatrix needs to get Molly out of her system.
1. Letter Home

_Prompt: write a 100-word letter to your family._

Dear Father,

As I'm sure the wrackspurts have already told you, I've been Sorted into Ravenclaw! The Sorting Hat was very impressed with how my mind is compartmentalised, although it said that perhaps it is not nice to comment on how frayed it looks. I didn't mean to insult it, I just wanted it to know that I understand!

I'm still wearing my butterbeer-cork necklace, you know, the one that Mum made me. Sometimes I think I can hear her, but that's probably the Grey Lady. She haunts the Tower, did you know? She talks to me sometimes. It's fascinating. She always looks so sad, though. I made her a bracelet out of lavender and she smiled at me. I wish she could actually wear it.

Well, it's nearly time for Astronomy again. Did you know, you aren't supposed to hold your telescope upside-down? I don't know why, but Professor Sinistra seemed quite irate with me when I did it last week.

I can't wait to see you at Christmas, I'm sure I'll have loads of things to tell you by then!

All my love,

Luna


	2. Smart Enough

_Prompt: Up to 500 word drabble, prompts used: bronze_

The common room is Mandy's safe haven. It is the place she can curl up in a chair, or in a corner, or on the window-sill, and not feel judged. Not feel like she's not living up to her parent's expectations because she's not in Gryffindor, like her older sister Megan. Megan the courageous, Megan the star Quidditch Chaser, Megan the everything that Mandy's not.

She's not brave enough to be a Gryffindor, but sometimes she wonders if she's really smart enough to be in Ravenclaw. Her grades are good, but they aren't stunning. She gets stuck outside the Tower at least once a night because she can't figure out the bloody riddle, and only gets rescued by a prefect.

And of course tonight would have to be one of those nights. Mandy slumps against the wall outside, cheeks burning as a passing Gryffindor seventh-year points at her.

"Who ever heard of a Ravenclaw not smart enough to get in her own Tower?" the Gryffindor smirks, and Mandy feels tears prickle her eyes.

"That's enough," the slightly squeaky voice of her Head of House says sharply behind her. "Twenty points from Gryffindor, Fletchley. Now, dear, what's the problem?" he adds, turning to Mandy, eyes crinkled in kindness.

"I can't solve the riddle," she explains in a wobbly voice, fresh tears slipping down her cheeks. "Maybe he's right-I'm not smart enough to be in Ravenclaw..."

"Nonsense, Miss Brocklehurst," Professor Flitwick says sternly. "The Sorting Hat is never wrong. Now, what was the riddle?"

"With no wings, I fly. With no eyes, I see. With no arms, I climb. More frightening than any beast, stronger than any foe. I am cunning, ruthless, and tall; in the end, I rule all. What am I?" she recites. "But I don't _know_ what it is, Professor Flitwick," Mandy wails.

"Imagination," Professor Flitwick tells the bronze eagle-shaped knocker, and the door melts away. "You'll get used to the riddles, Miss Brocklehurst," he tells her kindly. "Remember, you're only a first year. It takes practice."

"Thank you, sir," she whispers, blushing as she clambers into the familiar refuge.


	3. Return the Favour

_Prompt: Inter-house love. Reviewed Smeagolia's "An Unexpected Friendship." Characters: Bellatrix Lestrange, Molly Prewett._

_Warning: Extremely dubious consent/non-con, coercion, technically underage._

Of all people, a _blood traitor_ had caught her eye, and Bellatrix was less than pleased. Oh, said blood traitor was pretty enough, she supposed. Long red hair that came halfway down her back, with just enough curl to make it lively. Bright brown eyes that always glinted in defiance and repressed mischief. The school robes hid Molly's figure well enough, but Bellatrix knew that she was fairly shapely beneath the patched fabric.

But a _blood traitor._ Always palling around with Arthur Weasley, the self-proclaimed Muggle lover. Bellatrix crinkled her nose in distaste as the object of her ire pelted across the Great Hall, his robes flapping up around his ankles, in pursuit of some friend or another. Disgusting. Her Lord would have no trouble sorting such a fool out and yet...

Bellatrix sighed, kicking her feet aimlessly against her stone perch. She wanted Molly. Perhaps a night with her would get the girl out of her head. A quick dalliance, then presto! Bellatrix could get back to finding a proper husband like her Lord wished and then graduate from Hogwarts with a clear conscience, unsullied by the thought of how the blood traitor's lips would taste beneath her own.

_Perfect,_ she decided and slipped down. She had some work to do to get Molly Prewett into her bed, and it wouldn't be easy. Then again, Bellatrix always _did_ prefer a challenge...

* * *

Of course, she didn't want this amount of challenge, Bellatrix thought with distaste later that night, as she looked down at the unconscious form of Molly Prewett. The Gryffindor seventh-year put up quite a fight-Bellatrix didn't know how she would be able to explain some of the scratches on her face if she couldn't fix them before breakfast tomorrow, and her left arm ached rather unpleasantly from the punch Molly landed.

A simple trap, but effective. A note slipped into Molly's book-bag that claimed Arthur wanted to meet her behind the greenhouses, and well, like a little trusting lamb Molly went. Bellatrix smirked, almost affectionately prodding the redhead's throat with her wand. Not so trusting when she saw Bellatrix, though, considering how fast her wand came out, how quickly the hissed words slashed through the air.

Bellatrix won, though. She always did. And now Molly Prewett, blood traitor and far-too-pretty-for-her-own-good, was at a Black's mercy. This was going to be so much _fun._

First, though, she had to move the girl. The professors patrolled around the greenhouses regularly. And while Bellatrix had been able to explain sneaking out to kiss a boy or two under the star-light, she doubted she'd be able to explain whatever she managed to do to Molly, especially when the two were sworn enemies.

Still, it was easy enough after a murmured levitation spell and a bit of a hike. The clearing Bellatrix chose was just outside the Forbidden Forest, and ringed by rather large rocks. Which also made it _very_ easy to set up a few privacy and silencing spells. No one came out this way unless there was some other pressing reason to be here. It was perfect.

She dumped Molly to the ground, casually shredding her robes off her body with a few well-placed cutting hexes. Pale skin gleamed through the rents in the fabric, lightly dusted with freckles, and Bellatrix swallowed hard.

"Lovely," she murmured aloud, thudding to her knees and reaching for the torn cloth. Just as she uncovered Molly's stomach, the girl woke up.

"What the hell are you doing, Black?" Molly shouted, immediately trying to struggle free, though her eyes remained unfocused. Bellatrix reacted almost without thinking, slamming herself down on the girl and driving the breath from her.

"What does it look like?" Bellatrix smirked. "Come on, Prewett, you know you want it," she taunted the helpless girl beneath her, grinding herself into Molly's hip bones.

"No, I don't," Molly grunted, trying to heave and buck the Slytherin off. "Get _off_, Black, come on, you've had your fun."

"Only beginning, actually," Bellatrix said airily. "And I intend to get off, Prewett. Only not _quite_ how you intended that." Her eyes sparked, and she could see the blood drain from Molly's face.

"Oh, did you figure out what I meant?" Bellatrix continued, wiggling down a bit so that she could continue ripping apart Molly's robes. "I'm surprised, Prewett. Normally, you're much slower than that."

"Shut it, you bitch," Molly growled, her hands coming up and grabbing at Bellatrix's.

"I don't think so," Bellatrix tsk'ed under her breath, her wand coming out in an instant, pressed firmly to the hollow of Molly's throat. "_Imperio!_"

The Gryffindor's grip slackened, her eyes going perfectly empty, although Bellatrix could see the fight, somewhere deep, deep inside.

"Lie still," Bellatrix commanded, slipping her wand back into its holster and exposing Molly's bare skin to the waist in one motion. "Don't make a sound, unless it's of pleasure."

A slight, breathy moan escaped Molly's lips as Bellatrix's fingers caressed her breasts, slipping across her nipples until they ruched into points.

"You like that, don't you," Bellatrix whispered, her eyes glittering, and Molly nodded helplessly. "Thought so."

Leaning down, Bellatrix captured Molly's lips with her own, crushing them back against her teeth. They were soft and ever-so-sweet and Bellatrix loved them, rocking into her prey's body as her hand captured a fistful of Molly's brilliant red hair.

"Come on," Bellatrix panted, grinding harder against Molly, the fingers of one hand dipping past her robes and into her panties. "Moan for me, bitch. _Moan for me._"

With Molly's whimpers to spur her on, Bellatrix came quickly, wetness spurting across her fingers. She sagged against Prewett, gasping for breath.

"I should return the favour," Bellatrix hissed in Molly's ear, enjoying the way the girl's eyes widened, even through the Imperio'd haze. It was the work of a few moments to stuff the hand she'd just used, still damp with her own fluids, down Molly's knickers and get her off. Swallowing Molly's cries with a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, Bellatrix laughed low in her throat, finally sitting up and licking her fingers clean.

"You liked that," she sing-songed, clambering slightly clumsily to her feet. "I know you did. I can see it in your eyes. I can _taste_ it. But don't worry, Prewett. You won't remember a thing."

She pointed her wand between Molly's eyes and murmured a single word.

"_Obliviate._"


End file.
